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Untitled

It only looks perfect in the postcards. I stand before a town sign saying, “Welcome to Hallowed Hills! Population: 17,871.” The sign seems awfully cheerful considering all of the things I've heard about Hallowed Hills. Or maybe it’s just my bad mood; I did just get into a car wreck. I couldn't see the bloody road ahead of me for all of the fog and I ended up slamming my car into a bloody tree! Bloody ‘ell!

The fog is so bloody thick I can’t see ten meters ahead of me. But, my job forces me to be here. Y’see, I’m a psychologist. I've been working at a local asylum trying to figure out the cause of mental breakdown in a group of patients. While their causes were mostly different, every single one of ‘em had one thing in common: they all visited Hallowed Hills right before their mental breakdown. I couldn't figure out the significance of it, though; any time I brought up Hallowed Hills, they’d all faint or have a seizure.

So, with the intent of finding out more about this breakdown, I've traveled to the mountain resort town of Hallowed Hills. I already have a headache from this. This trip is going to be wonderful indeed.

I walk passed the sign, leaving my totaled car behind. Maybe I can find someone in town who can tell me where I can find a tow truck; I can’t call for one, my phone was smashed in the crash. I really wish I brought with me my jacket, the air is like ice. It’s almost solid, like it’s trying to keep me out. I huddle inside my shirt and walk on.

I notice that the road would continue ahead through a tunnel, if it weren't blocked off by a chain-link fence. It covers the entire tunnel entrance; I couldn't climb over even if I wanted to.

That’s just bloody great; I’ll have to wander in this fog until I’m in the town proper. Nearby is a gas station with a fairly small parking lot. On one end of the lot is a staircase leading down the mountainside. This way must lead to town. There’s no other reason for its existence. I walk there, slowly descending the mountain. I notice something strange; as the fog gets thicker, the air gets warmer.

I hope I don’t end up falling off the mountainside. The fog is too thick to see even five meters ahead now. The edge of the mountain could come sneaking up on me. I walk along the twisting path down the mountain. The air is no longer cold, and the fog is letting up a little, too. As I walk, I find myself in a graveyard. There is someone standing before me, her back to me.

“Excuse me!” I call out. She turns to me. “This one has a few questions, that I do,” I say with my somewhat unfortunate idiosyncrasies. The lady cocks her head to one side.

“Questions…?” she asks slowly.

“Er… Yes. This one just wants to know…” I think only one question is a good idea for know, but what? “… just wants to know… What is with this fog? There is no lake or river nearby, that there isn't.”

“The… fog…?” she thinks. “Oh! Yes, the fog! That’s just the town’s way of saying ‘Hello!’”

What is this? I don’t even… “Is that all? This one thanks you, that I do.” I walk past her, uncertain of what she meant. She seems like she’d be a regular at my place of employ. A white sweater and red jeans, she looks a little weird and out of place. As I walk through the cemetery, I hear her call out, “Bu-bye, Mister!!”

First a car crash, then thick fog, and now a grown woman talking like a small child. I can’t but think that time is moving slower. I walk through the opposite gate of the cemetery and finally find my way into the town proper. It seems like days have passed, when the reality is that it has only been about fifteen minutes. The fog is still persistent in town.

I see another figure ahead, shrouded in fog. I call out to it, but it shuffles away. I head towards it. It couldn't have moved very far or very fast, but it somehow disappeared. As I follow the road, I start to hear sounds behind me. They’re difficult to make out. Some sound like growling, some like claws against pavement, some sound like laughing, some sound like crying. I check behind me, but there’s nothing there.

I turn back, and there’s a streak of blood across the street. The blood wasn't there before. It seeps from a rusty old car and trails off further down the street, into the fog. That shuffling figure from before is standing there, waiting. I call out to it again, but it shuffles away again. I’m starting to understand why all of those patients pointed this place out. I need to leave this town.

I turn and run back. I’m overcome with an irrational fear. This town, with its randomly appearing bloodstains… I rush and run through the fog back the way I came. The fog suddenly vanishes with a load, unholy growling echoing behind me. In front of me, where the road once was, there remains only a gap. An abyss, I can’t see the bottom. What’s more, the growling I heard before has caught up.

Bloody ‘ell…

To be continued…